Rest in Peace

i was 15 years old when i watched in horror the pandemonium that struck Hillsbrough, Sheffield. it was the second time i watched death in the masses in the space of 6 years. the first was Heysel, Belgium.

until today i have no words to describe those tragedies. but i know those observations have definitely left an indelible mark in my mind and soul. perhaps those two incidents have shaped my belief that any soul and life in the world is worth saving. there is no truly evil soul in this world, only ones that are living and those that are lost.

that i am sure of. 

maybe i have no space for negative superlatives and adjectives for tragedy. its probably redundant. maybe during those times, only one word fills my head.

Hope.

i only  have  hope that for those who survived and those whose families experienced death, that they have the strength to carry on living.

and to live on is what we shall do. 

I was lucky to have been able see my favorite football team perform at its peak in the 80s but it was fate that i was able to witness the incidents of Heysel and Hillsbrough on the tele.  

i still have no words to describe those two fated nights but i still have hope. 

on to live on is how we shall continue.

leaving Phi Phi…

i think i have learnt and gained more on the second trip. to me it was a sombre trip. nevertheless, i am not saying that it was terrible holiday, far from it. 

the days that i was there, i looked around the buildings and beaches, wondering the things that were and the things that became after the tragedy. 

i have read Luciano Butti’s book: the owner of Ciao Bella. if there was a nobel prize for emotional writing, this book would win hands down.

on that island…

i arrived on Phi Phi two days ago. i am compelled to say that it has been a relatively uneventful first two days.

thank you Lord.

my mind had been working overtime for the past few weeks or so with the school musical and songwriting. hence, it has been good that it has stopped 400 push-ups and 3000 sit-ups in a minute. glad to say that it is now on brain muscle toning mode.

one reason i knew that it had been overworking to death, was for the past two nights, despite the nearby beach discotheque’s incessant invites via my room walls, i have been undeterred from my sleep. i have stayed true to my word.

nevertheless, i have not been resting my rear end merely on the bed, the bench or the lazy chair provided by the chalet. to date, i have done some island swimming and snorkeling.

for example, yesterday, i revisited Phi Phi Leh: the most beautiful scenes one can ever find on planet earth. i made that promise so many years ago and i am pleased with myself that i have kept it.

as i swam with the fishies, i reinforced the belief that there are good in this planet and it is worth loving. while in regular intervals, the adzan emanating from the local mosque reminds me of my sacred duty as a person to help others to the best of my abilities.

i hope i dont sound too preachy when i say the things above. thats the least of my intentions. i try not to go around knocking on people’s doors spreading the word of Jesus or Muhammad. i try to live an examplary life as a person and minimise conflict whenever any arose and through my art i try to spread the good word; that is just how i intend to help others.

observing the surroundings and environment of Phi Phi, i see the strength of human sacrifice and dignity. may that further aid my goals in my burgeoning attempts.

Phi Phi Island, Peace be upon you…

lots of greens and seas…

the greens were pleasing to the eyes and the moving seas were melodies on my ears.

despite the late night early morning disco music coming through the walls of my chalet, i have been sleeping like a baby.

sorry…not back for good it seems…

well, as i had expected. as soon as i posted something on this blog, i was refused access again. nothing wrong with wordpress, just one of the perks of living in China.

anyway, i am in Pulau Piapi (otherwise known as Koh Phi Phi) havin a chill holiday, trying to remind myself of the beauties that the earth can offer.

back for good?

i just had a comment written on my blog which i havent written for AGES. not that i dont want to but being in China, i cant access it. but it seems, today i can. how long will that last.

anyway, just to keep you guys updated… musical, sacked principal, new school, new album, new songs… that is the sequence of all the big things that has happened to me so far…

cheers…

What are you listening to?

It was about 5 pm in the afternoon when me and my football buddies had just ended our weekly World Cup event held on the school field just across my family apartment. As we marched out of the field, I noticed a few of the older boys’ friends taking their seats at our gathering place. By the looks of it, they seemed to be looking forward to a picnic day out with their guitar and protable stereo set.

 

Tired and thirsty, a few of us went straight to the public tap situated near a basketball court which was adjacent to the field. Drenched in sweat and dirt, we strolled towards it in our soiled football boots and jerseys.

 

We didn’t actually have identical jerseys. It was more of an assortments of jerseys from the club of our allegience. At this point of time I should also point out that the boots I wore were made of  canvas, made by an excellent Chinese company called Panda. The other excellent shoe maker in the world back then was Double Happiness. They made stylish if not excellent school shoes. And what made it even better, it was cheap and it was sold in practically every neighborhood corner store.

 

‘Did you manage to catch the FA Cup Final last night?’ I asked Yazid, this tall, buck-toothed, boy. He was a year older than I was but he was in my class. However, because he had failed his Primary School Leaving Examination, he had to repeat that year.

 

‘My father didn’t let me,’ he answered.’He wanted me to do some studying and go to sleep early.’

 

I remembered the only time that happened. When I was eight or nine, my father didn’t let me watch a game on the tele was when they wanted to watch something else. Some meaningless award show. I cried to sleep then. It was my beloved Liverpool playing.

 

With that said, he did make us stay up at 2 am to watch a World Cup match between Brazil and France a few years before that. So it’s all even I suppose.

 

Anyway, coming from a football mad culture, his father not letting him watch it said something didn’t it? At least, he was not banned from playing. Otherwise his world might have ended as he knew it.

 

I turned on the tap and let water slide into my mouth in the litres. He did the same too. After a few minutes of our suicide attempts by drowning, we washed our faces like it was ablution time. Water sure is our life blood.

 

Feeling refreshed, we walked to the place of gathering where it was strangely subdued. I didn’t think it was the exhaustion. At most, there were some quiet conversation going on. There was not much animation in that one.

 

However there was music blasting from the stereo. There were weird sounds coming from it. At that point in time in my life, I had heard only music from The Beatles, Karen Carpenter, Earth Wind and Fire, Michael Jackson’s Thriller etc.

 

This so called new music that I had discovered had plenty of distorted guitar sounds, super fast drums and incomprehensible high pitched vocals and screams. That explained the lack of interaction. Everyone was listening to the sound that was coming out of the music box. And they were all listening to it as if it were a listening comprehension test. There were not much movement either. Sometimes the boys would nod in recognition of something. I had no idea what it was but it was as if they were under a spell or something.

 

I had listened to music before but we would dance and sing and jump up and down like a monkey on fire. It was a natural reaction. There was something unnatural about this. No one seemed to be reacting to anything. Occasionally, the bloke with the guitar would strum something and played a lick, mimicking the one that was heard on the stereo.

 

And then it was over.

 

They all looked at each other and smiled.

 

‘That was awesome,’ one of the big boys said.

 

What was awesome? I did not hear anything that was even remotely close to fascinating. It perhaps could not even smell the feet of fascinating if it had limbs. However I could not say anything for these boys were 4 to 7 years older than I was. Hence that meant they had bigger fists, arms, and biceps than me.

 

‘What are you listening to?’ politely I asked.

 

‘Iron Maiden,’ the bloke with the guitar said.

 

‘Let’s listen to the next song,’ the other said.

 

The noise came to being again. I remember saying this quietly inside my head, ‘what crap music.’

 

Since I did not want to be under any spell of any shitty sounding music, I headed home. It was getting dark anyway. Nevertheless, little did I know that in a few years time, it was my turn to be besotted into that type of melody and tune. During that time, I would forever be under its spell for an eternity and more.

 

 

What time do you get off?

‘Oh No!!! The school holidays are over!!! Quick get the bucket of water!’ screamed Jude, the Floor Manager, as we laughed a hearty laughter.

The students from Methodist Girl’s School (MGS) thronged in like bees to the honey. Well I wasn’t too unhappy with their presence.

Sure they ask for too much water, but hey, water is the essence of life. Without water humans would all die. Without water we would have been consumed by the aliens in Signs. I could go on and list down all the advantages but i will not.

Besides, these students were all cute, fresh, pretty, adorable, and cute and…

I looked to my left to my friend Andy and we nodded knowingly as droves of girls pile onto the McDonald’s counter like stacks of honeycomb.

Their orders were predictable. Coke, Water, Sky Juice… Sky Juice? That is the Latin name for water. I have no idea who thought that one out but I feel like kicking him in the crotch or slap her on the breasts.

Back to the our Mass Rapid Transit of thought; sometimes a surprise might spring up. Someone might come up with a hamburger to the surprise and distaste to the rest of the student population for breaking the mould.

I suspected that, the day after, those mould breakers would be taken into a dark room by the MGS secret society and brainwashed or worst still, told to wear a rival’s school uniform.

Horrors of horrors.

Anyway, it would be the easiest peak period ever. Andy and I would normally breeze through like a whistle on a train. And with our brains and limbs not working as hard, we would look to entertain ourselves whilst working even with the millions of people queuing up to have a taste of the greatest thing that has ever happened to mankind.

There was no structure in the game that we played. It ranged from giving the girls a beauty grade to guessing what they might order.

And it was then, when we played that guessing game, that something happened unexpectedly.

This student was up next. However, before she could say anything, I interrupted her.

‘Wait a minute… don’t tell me,’ I said as the girl seemed puzzled. (Honestly, I did not plan that.)

I went away, disappeared from her sight, only to appear with a regular Coke in my hand.

As I placed it on the tray, she looked at me and gave me the ‘how-on-earth-did-you-know-you-are-so-cute-look’. Admittedly, I made the second part up. Although I am now a nice mature looking bloke (aka oldish), I have never been ‘cute’.

But to give my ego a boost, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have fabricate notions of one’s past. One just have to hide, destroy one’s old pictures. Sincerely, I have not destroyed them but have hidden them somewhere safe. If any of you desire to find it, let me tell you this: the journey to such treasures is long and perilous.

Nevertheless, what was mostly true was that she, that girl whom I surprised, was 100 percent adorable.

Subconciously or not, I had been quietly watching her. I must admit that. But no, I did not in any way did stalk her. It was all a coincidence. She just so happens to be there from Mondays to Fridays around 1pm. It would take anyone a week or two to figure that out. Fortunately that person was me.

Hence, she looked at me and I looked at her. We had a Peter Jackson movie moment. You know, the 2 seconds that lasted a million years in movie minutes. She took her Coke and went away, glancing back a few times perhaps in disbelieve.

She went on to have a seat just to hang out with her smart mouthed sidekick. The one who acted as if she were the consience of the girl who in actual fact was a just a jealous friend wondering why that cute guy didn’t pick her instead.

I was glad when I was told that I had tray duty. That meant that I could walk by her and chat with her for a bit.

So as i pretended to pick up the trays near her she stopped me by my tracks and asked, ‘how did you know?’

That part I don’t remember but whatever I said worked for at 4pm in the afternoon that fated day she appeared again.

When she came up to me, she said ‘When do you get off work?’

‘I get off at 8…,’ confidently and matter of factly I said. Little did I know what that actually signfied.

At 8pm, she appeared. She stood at the wall as I gave her the longest stare in the history of longest stares.

‘Is that your date,’ Francis the manager on duty then said.

I nodded my head.

‘OK you’re off duty then,’ he immediately said and closed my counter.

I could not believe my luck. I rushed to the changing room; got out of those dorky uniforms and into my dorky clothes and sped out of the restaurant to meet up with her.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Avloomat.’

‘Hi,’ she answered. ‘I’m Neesha.’

Needless to say, those moments were the most nerve wrecking episode in my entire dating life for that was sort of the first time that I had gone out on a date, albeit an accidental one.

We didn’t spend too much time though. I think the whole thing clocked at 1hour because she had to go back to her art class. And God knows, what we talked about but I do remember we talked a lot. I don’t quite remember myself speaking that much.

I must say that that was the first time in my life (I think I have said that many a times now) I had actually sat on a table next to a gorgeous girl who actually was talking to me. And when I say gorgeous I mean really beautiful.

That just goes to show that when you pay attention to a girl, the girl would want you. Simple as that.

Walking Home

I was duped into watching a movie with her. Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining. I am just stating an ironical fact. If that hadn’t happened, I most certainly wouldn’t have been with her. And if anyone aren’t able to read between the lines, let me say it plainly.

It is not with a tinge of regret that I recall this.

We had just finished watching ‘The King and I’ at the theatres. No, not the one with Yul Bryner but the one with Jodie Foster and Chow Yuen Fatt. If the former were true, only time travel would have made it a plausible senario.

Anyway, the truth is, she was the most beautiful girl that I had ever laid my eyes on. And I was glad that she had tricked me into doing it.

So there we were, standing in the train station, contemplating on our mode of transport home. For some reason, we started walking as we adorned it with a sprinkle of idle talk. I don’t quite recall what the gist of it but I was sure we were enraptured with the aforementioned film.

We did not decide outright to walk home. At least, that was how I remember it. Perhaps, as we walked away from the train and bus station, we felt that it was only natural to continue walking. Till this day however, I still wonder if it was natural to her.

The crux of my present contention was that this beautiful lady wasn’t wearing comfortable shoes. I could only imagine how painful it might have been. I think out of politeness, I did ask if her feet was feeling any discomfort. And I am not making it up to make myself feel less guilty.

Thus, from the Bishan Junction 8, we gingered along the pavements of Ang Mo Kio Avenue 8. When we reached Bishan Park, we decided to pass through it.

It wasn’t my first time passing through it but it felt different at that time. I wasn’t sure how many mosquito bites I had gotten but I suspect I had a few marks on my arms and neck.

I have never talked so much in my entire life at that point of time. Perhaps that was the reason it felt different. I was spewing out endless little chatter as if my red blood cells demanded it. On hindsight she must surely have not been impressed with my nonsensical rants.

But put up with it she did. And she put up with it so much that we didn’t realise that we were out of Bishan Park and had stepped onto Avenue 5.

It had been a long walk I must admit. I was pleasantly surprised with the breeze of the journey. I think we clocked 45 minutes. When we left the cinema, it was about 9. As we reached towards the end of the Avenue 5, it was close to 10pm.

I had another surprise waiting for me as we reached her flat. Her parents were waiting for her at the foot of the slope looking worried.

Being the gentleman that I was (or had to be), I introduced myself and shook hands with them. They didn’t say much but she got home safely.

That little surprise incident did not dampen my spirits for the night. Not a bit.

I was just happy that I got to do that little gesture of affection that we often take for granted. As we strolled home, our sweaty palms held on fondly to each other. I thought that my ear to ear grin while walking home was to last the whole night and beyond.

Travelers: A Comment

I have a feeling. I feel that travellers are merely a bunch of sado-masochists voyeuristic sluts.

Who in their right minds would subject themselves to a million stares and revel on the pain of being watched all the time. I hate being stared at. I hate being looked at like an animal in a zoo or safari. They stare at you as if you are an alien being from Alpha Centauri.

Hence, no one in their right minds would subject themselves to that. Sure they would hide behind the guise of ’seeing the world’. I feel sick even thinking about it. That was how i felt when Bush proclaimed that he was getting rid of Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq.

Indeed it is that sick. If anyone were to travel around the world, they should do it the Phineas Fogg way; preferably one that looked like Pierce Brosnan and Julia Nicholson as an Indian Princess. Now, that is travelling with dignity and respect.

On top of that, travellers would not only be inviting stares but a barrage of comments like ‘Funky Girl’ or one of Cairo’s favourite comment ‘Lucky Man’. On hindsight it seemed cool to be called Funky or Lucky. I doubt I would be called that on a normal day. So in a certain sense, yes I am lucky.